Apophous: Transparent Mind
by Master Dash Rendar
Summary: A story of the journeys and trials of an 18 year old Sith apprentice and his master. Set between the times of Episode III and A New Hope. Please Read AND Review! My first full scale FanFic. Forgive the spelling. Oh yeah, if your name happens to be Amanda
1. Weak

Title: Apophous: Transparent Mind  
Summary: A young boy's destiny is changed when he is taken on as a Sith apprentice by a former terrorist.   
Rating: PG (for violence and junk)  
Disclaimer thingy: Do I really have to have one of these disclaimer   
things? Anyway, everyone knows that I, Master Dash Rendar, do not   
own Star Wars. George does. BUT, I do own all of the characters in this story,   
except Katie Zecli and Antooanna, and for that I thank Genius writer Seth N. Jones.   
Unless by chance I end up mentioning the existence of a copywrited Star Wars character, I own them! (but I couldn't care less if you used them in your stories)   
And I'm making no, zero, jack squat in cash from this semi creative book (darn).   
  
Thanks: I would like to thank my mom and dad....I don't know how they helped me with this story, but it just seems like the right thing to do. I want to thank my friend, Kat, who truly inspired me to write this with her own stories and always encouraged me. And I want to thank two friends, let's just cal them "Apophous" and "Chicharious". They created those characters. Well, they actually just created the names, so when I heard them, I grabbed them and ran. And of course, thank you, George.   
  
Author's note: I'm new at this fan fic thing. But I'll tell you one thing,   
the Apophous series doesn't end with "Transparent mind".  
Look forward to seeing my next story, labeled "With Darkness Comes Silence"   
Please Review! Please!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
STAR WARS  
  
  
APOPHOUS   
TRANSPARENT MIND  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
"Something's not right...." A young human boy with pitch black hair  
froze. His strong senses spoke to him, and when they did, they  
were never ignored. It was clear, yet faded at the same time. He  
could not pin-point this specific feeling, it was something he had  
never experienced before.   
Normally, no excitement or activity  
occured in the the small, low technology village of Ach'oda, a  
settlement in a remote area of the planet Antooanna. But he was  
not in the village at the time, he was target shooting in the woods  
with his brand new, low powered bowcaster. The primitive  
weapon was a gift from his father, Melchizedek. Giving gifts was  
not a regularly practiced ritual for the poor family, but this, being  
the boy's fourteenth birthday, was considered a worthy occasion.   
Strangely,   
at fourteen, the boy had been considered an adult for two years, for the  
method of time telling was much different on Antooanna than the standard form.   
The youth was capable of sensing things that would normally  
surpass his friends and family, revealing that he had a highly  
developed awareness of the force. He re-holstered his weapon, for  
the strange alertness that rippled through his mind sent his heart  
pounding. His dark eyes moved slowly back and forth as he tried  
to grasp the emotion, but it was too faint. All that his senses told  
him was that there was fear and panic among his family, and a  
sudden concern of what may be happening surged through his  
body.  
He turned to face the direction of his home, and panicked  
when he saw a dark cloud of smoke rising above the trees. He  
stood motionless for a few seconds, petrified from shock. When  
he came to his senses, he bagan running as fast as he was  
capable, unconsious of anything else. As he neared his home, he  
could smell and almost taste the dense smoke hanging in the air.  
He nearly passed out as he parted the tall grass to see his home,  
along with the entire residence, egulfed in flames. Adrenaline   
flooded and he charged inside his inflamed household, prepared to  
do anything to save his parents. It took him only seconds to  
search his small home to find that they were not there. He burst  
out the door, the smoke begining to take affect. He trembled from  
confusion and fear. He hadn't the slightest conception of what  
may have happened during the half hour that he was gone, but  
was too terrified to care. A quick vision flashed in front of his  
eyes. He remembered a time when he was young when a huge  
and powerful storm hit his villiage, and he and his mother and  
father, along with many others, evacuated their homes to spend  
the night in a neighbor's cellar, actually an underground cave, for  
cover from the dangerous weather. He felt urged to go there.  
Again, he ran. He was overjoyed when he saw some of his  
father's work hands assisting people into the cellar. When Karnaa  
Graunn, an Antooannian friend of the boy's parents saw him, he  
motioned him to come closer.   
"Where are your father and mother?" He asked, the dark green  
crystal in his forehead reflecting the glow of the spreading fire. His  
already dark skin was tinted from the black smoke.  
"I don't know! What's happening?"   
The boy was given a sideways look.  
"What do you mean? Weren't....weren't you at home with your  
parents?"   
"I was...but I took...I took my new blaster in the woods....but...but  
when I got back my house was burning down...." The boy was  
now shaking intensesly and tears of confusion were welling up in  
his eyes. "Who...did this?" Karnaa sighed loudly. He bent over, his  
long, glistening wings still reaching two meters above the ground.  
His green eyes were focused in on boys dark brown eyes. He  
began slowly, hoping to calm the disconcerted young man.   
"The town was overrun by the Schiyan earlier,"  
"What? The Schiyan? What's..."  
"Terrorists. They're terrorists."   
The boy stumbled backwards, shaking his head in disbelief.   
"I...don't understand...." Said the boy slowly.   
"Neither do I, but we have to stay here." The man spoke very  
soft, for he too was frightened. The teenager nodded languidly. He  
found himself sitting in the corner of dark, wet cellar. And there he  
sat for hours upon hours with the other homeless citizens of the  
town. He tortured himself with his own thoughts, and finally came  
to the conclusion that his parents were dead. He stared past the  
sleeping residents at the dull wall. Sudenly, light flooded the room  
as a tall man burst through the door.   
"Get out! Everyone! Now! Now!" The man led the panicked  
Antooannians across the room to a small tunnel, leading to  
another exit. The boy sat. Of course, the evacuaters were too  
rushed to do a headcount, and the boy was left sitting willingly  
alone in the cave. Everyone was gone. The terrorists neared, but  
he didn't care. He would have killed himself earlier, but he had no  
effecient weapon. The light from the open door was blocked  
momentarily by the outlines of huge men and aliens entering the  
room. There were humans, there were Grans, there were  
Qaurrens and Twi'leks, most of them species that the boy had  
never heared of. There were at least a dozen of them, which, to  
the boy, didn't seem like enough to burn an entire town to the  
ground and scare away it's entire inhabitance. A tall, bald human  
man wearing an ammunition vest and camoflauge attire  
approached him, picked him up by the collar of his faded brown  
shirt, lifted his dagger above his head, and prepared to do away  
with him.   
"He's only a boy," Came a deep, hardy voice from a tall,  
muscular man standing behind him. The terrorist nearly flinched  
when he heard the voice The powerful man wore no shirt, but  
strange X shaped armor. A long, yellow cape hung from his left  
shoulder pad, and a long scar marked the entire right side of his  
face. The bald man dropped the boy and backed slowly away as  
the man wearing the strange armor approached him.  
"What is your name, boy?" Came again the deep, strong voice.  
The teenager looked sternly up to the man, showing he feared  
nothing from him, not even death.   
  
"My name, is Apophous."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter I  
  
  
The 18 year old Apophous never imagined that he would be  
locked in combat, let alone Lightsaber combat, with the man who  
took him off the forsaken planet Antooanna, and in his mind  
saved his life. Apophous was now a well built boy, muscular, fast,  
and wise, but the mysterious dark haired man he was fighting,  
standing seven feet tall and able to shove his unprotected fist  
through a metal wall, obviously had the advantage in Lightsaber  
combat. It had been four well spent years from the time that the  
powerful man, once a terrorist, reeked havoc throughout the  
galaxy. There he stood, half a meter away from Apophous, in a  
professional combat stance, and although Apophous was not  
capable of handling his full strength attacks, he was clearly  
prepared for anything the boy could throw at him, he himself also  
holding a small metal tube with a glowing blade of yellow light  
reaching five feet from beginning to end. Apophous glared tensely  
into the eyes of his adequate opponent, and squeezed his  
Lightsaber, glowing pure white, tightly. The two opponents were  
like shadows, their dark frames circling an endless oval in the  
center of an immensely huge iron plated floor. The force was  
there, but it's scource was uncertain. Apophous wiped the sweat  
from his forehead, and his heavy breathing ceased. His weary  
expression turned violent. His gloved hands gripped the ancient  
weapon even tighter. He very suddenly and ery abruptly took a  
powerful swing at the man's right hip, and when he swiftly and  
powerfully brought his blade to meet the boy's swing, it nearly  
knocked him off balance, the intense rumble of the block shaking  
his entire body. He recovered quickly and swung again, this time a  
low slice aimed at the man's feet. With complete serenity, he leapt  
into the air, the blow missing him by nearly six inches, while  
Apophous's weapon scraped and hissed as it swiped the metal  
mesh floor of the enormous, open room, leaving a long, black sear  
across it. The man made no attempt to fight back. He was  
wearing his opponent down, although he had the complete  
dominance even when he was at full strength. Again, Apophous  
swung. Straight upward this time, and much harder, in an  
endeavor to knock his fighter's weapon out of the way long  
enough to get a clear shot at his stomach. A mistake. As he was  
bringing his Lightsaber around for the hit, his adversary   
recovered much faster than he assumed, and with a painful,  
burning swipe, left a four inch burn on his left shoulder blade.  
Apophous did not fall to the ground. There was no blood, it wasn't  
even a serious burn. Apophous, along with the man he was  
fighting, pressed a small button on the handle of his weapon, and  
the energy blade disappeared back into where it came from. It  
was not a full strength, Jedi knight saber Apophous had been  
struck by, for if it was, Apophous would no longer have a left arm.  
He was being trained as a Sith. The former terrorist fighting him  
had no intentions to kill him, this was merely a simulation  
battle. His name was Chicharious, a Sith lord, whom Apophous  
looked up to almost like a father figure. His broze hair was short  
and pressed back, and a braid hung from above each ear down to  
where his jaw ended, while three more hung down past his neck  
from the back of his head. He wore the same strange cross  
shaped armor, colored dark gray and black, that he had on when  
he found Apophous in a drab cave four years ago. The long, dark  
scar still marked his right cheek. His clothes were dark gray with  
yellow stripes outlining his arms and legs, and he wore black  
shoulderpads with a long, yellow cape draping down to his shin  
from the left side. He had pale blue eyes that seemed to glow in  
the dark room. Apophous was slim, but small for  
his age. He wore a black training vest, his jet black hair was  
shaved short, and his eyes dark brown. Chicharious walked  
slowly over to his apprentice and put both of his large hands on  
his shoulders.   
"You must slow down, and concentrate. You must plan your  
next move according to your opponent's weak points." The deep  
and powerful voice had not changed. He always spoke slowly,  
unlike his apprentice who would sometimes react very fast.   
"Yes, master." He replied respectfully. He was ceaselessly  
fascinated by what his master had to say. He could imagine all of  
the knowledge he was obtaining from a man with so many  
experiences. At first, Apophous disliked the idea of calling this  
repulsive scum who he thought had killed his parents master, and  
it took him roughly a year to adjust, but when he encountered the  
fact that this man was his only way of surviving, he was ensured  
he could adapt. Despite what many would think, Chicharious was  
not a man for the Empire, and unequivocally not for the republic,  
at least, what remained of the republic. He hated them all. He  
believed in one thing, and that was that he should worry about no  
one but himself and his apprentice. He promised himself that he  
would never, in any way, put himself in a situation where he would  
have to be under any living being, no matter how powerful. But  
Chicharious was not overconfident. He knew that someone, or  
something out there would be able to over-take him, although he  
had not discovered it yet. Actually, he was a very serene and  
understanding man. Of course, that would be hard to believe,  
considering that he was a terrorists for two years. He now  
meticulously regretted his decision to become a terrorist, one that  
he made after being in a plight much like Apophous'. The thing  
that happened hurt and disconcerted him. He decided to prove to  
himself, and any one else who may have doubted it, that he could  
do anything he wanted, and mistaked self-esteem with foolishness.  
He could now see that, and after a year of being a terrorist,  
decided that he wanted out. But where was there to go? He hated  
the missions the terrorists sent him on, and thought that they were  
cruel and heartless, which they were, but there was no where else  
to turn. He had pity for the good, and thought that there was no  
point in killing innocent people. When he was a boy, he also was  
trained as a Sith. His master, Nelzonan Xsirocx, trained him to  
be an evil, cold blooded killer, but Chicharious thought much  
contrarily than her, and was going to be discerning in what he  
taught Apophous. Chicharious wanted so badly to leave the  
terrorists, and when he found Apophous, he made the decision to  
take him on as an apprentice. The first thought that came to  
Chicharious' mind when Apophous first told him his name in  
that cocky, non fearing tone was, "This could be fun....".Chicharious   
constantly craved an arduous challenge,   
and it was obvious that training a headstrong, egotistic teenager would help  
fulfill that craving. He  
backed leisurely away from Apophous, brought up his Lightsaber,  
and ignited it. "You will try again." Apophous moaned. Sweat  
dripped from his forehead as he reluctantly and languidly readied  
for combat. Chicharious was first to attack this time, his humming  
weapon aimed at Apophous' chest. He could have blocked it  
easily, but instead of doing so, he leapt straight backwards to  
elude it. Before Chicharious could even give Apophous a  
frustrated look, he bounded forward with his lightsaber held  
straight out in front of him in a jabbing technique. Chicharious  
made his move just in time, swiping the weapon away right before  
it hit him. Again, before Chicharious could respond, Apophous  
took a seris swings. Left, right, left, down, and all with one hand,  
much like fincing. He used another burst of speed as Chicharious  
began to take a swing, and again locked him in defense. But when  
Chicharious finally did get his two seconds to attack, Apophous  
briskly side-stepped, brought his saber around, and pretty much  
wacked him in the side with it. "Good!" Exclaimed Chicharious.  
"Your speed will be a great asset in combat. I suggest you use it."  
Apophous was honored to hear his master complement him, and  
Chicharious knew that pointing out his good points would do  
much more for him than being angry at him for his weak ones.  
"That's enough combat training for tonight, Apophous. You can  
go to your sleeping quarters." A disgruntled look invaded  
Apophous' face. "But....but master, you promised I could go see  
Zea after combat. I haven't seen him for almost two weeks,"  
Apophous spoke quickly, a tone of frustration in his voice.  
"You can spend time with Zealotos tomorrow. I'm afraid that you  
must learn that discipline and patience are more worthy of your  
time than that boy. You're immensely lucky I even let you see the  
boy. He's nothing more than a rebel, Apophous. I could be much  
more strict. My master would never have allowed such a thing." Apophous was  
about to protest, but the look on Chicharious' face told him that he  
wasn't kidding, and Apophous did not feel as if it would be worth  
it. He stammered wearily to his room, where he hooked his  
Lightsaber on the wall, too tired to do his exercises. He turned a  
small knob which dimmed the lights and laid down on his blanket  
covered wooden bed built in to the wall in the corner of the large  
room, staring up at the ceiling. Today had been work, tommorow  
will be fun.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Apophous shielded his eyes from the bright sun of Yavin IV as  
the two huge metal doors of the giant, domed temple made of blue  
iron slid open and the bright light of late morning shown down  
across the valley and onto Apophous. The temple, made up of  
seven giant towers, each with their own purpose, was built by  
Massassi slaves in honor of the Sith lord Exar Kun thousands of  
years ago, and was now called home by Apophous and his  
master. The towers were not extremely wide, but were incredibly  
tall, the tallest reaching 3,000 feet into the atmosphere. It stood  
radiantly at the edge of a canyon still being formed by a wide,  
slow running river that traveled through the many wooded areas  
of the moon and around the encompassing tree-covered  
mountains. Apophous strode elatedly across the magnificent  
bridge giving passage across the canyon, full of eagerness that he  
was finally on his way to see his only friend, 17 year old Zealotos,  
who lived outside of a not too distant city. The small journey to  
the port would be quite tiring for a normal human, but Apophous  
was proficient, and it took him less than a standard hour. First he  
had to travel through two miles of wooded area, cross a small  
river, and then follow a trail directly to Zealotos' large stone home.  
After Apophous had traveled through the thick woods for nearly a  
mile, he heard the familiar hum of the motor of a distant Swoop, a  
speeder bike like vehicle used by gangs on the remote desert  
planet of Tatooine. He froze in his steps to listen, his eyes  
twitching back and forth. The person riding it seemed to have no  
set destination, Apophous could hear it swerving through the  
trees, and instead of readying his weapon in case there was a  
threat, he just chuckled and calmly climbed a tree so he could get  
a better view. The sound became louder and louder, yet  
Apophous just sat, as if hiding from prey. Apophous could now  
see the vehicle jerking swiftly around the purple barked massassi  
trees,the rider's waist length hair blowing in the wind, and now did   
arm himself with his Lightsaber, the swoop  
rider still unaware of his presence. The swoop was headed right  
underneath the tree Apophous sat in, and after it had passed  
straight under him, he leapt from the tree, his Lightsaber ignited,  
beside the fact that it was a non deadly, low powered training  
weapon. The dark blond haired swoop rider heard him land on  
the forest floor, and made a wide U-turn.   
"Ha ha! prepare to die, coward!" Came ecstatic yells as the  
swoop sped straight towards Apophous. But Apophous stood still.  
He didn't make the slightest movement, with the exception of his  
elated grin. The speeder swerved to a stop two meters away from  
him. The boy riding it, probably in his upper teens, un-sheathed a  
long sword he was carrying on his back, the straps holding it  
criss-crossing his chest. He walked up to Apophous, stared him in  
the face, yanked his Lightsaber out of his hand and tossed it flintly  
to the ground. He was two or three inches taller than him, and  
wore a beige tunic with many pouches and satchels attached to it.He   
had two long braids tied with the golden back hair of a  
woolamander resting on his shoulders,   
and also had extensive lengths of rope and chain hanging from the  
pockets of his loose cargo pants, which made him look like a rugged, combat  
ready native hunting for food. He wrapped one of his sturdy arms  
around Apophous' neck, and pressed the tip of his sword daintily  
upon his chin.   
"Any last words?" He said grimly, with a solid look in his eyes.  
Apophous did not fight. He did not struggle. The only movement  
sensed in him was his quick buoyant smirk.   
"Good to see you, Zea." He said unwaveringly, the smile  
remaining. The assailant, 17 year old Zealotos, dropped him,  
smiled, and nodded.   
"Likewise," He said as he re-sheathed his sword. Unexpectedly,  
he brought his left arm around behind Apophous and backhanded  
him upside the head. Before Apophous could respond, he was  
stumbling forward in pain.  
"Ow! What was that for?"  
"Thanks for telling me you were going to be gone for two  
weeks!"   
He snapped back as Apophous rubbed the back of his flailed  
head.   
"It's not my fault. Chicharious wouldn't let me come, he says  
training's more important." Apophous was still rubbing his head  
when Zealotos re-mounted his swoop and started it's engine.   
"Hurry up," He said, patting the seat.   
"Where are we going?" Asked Apophous as he too mounted the  
vehicle.   
"Town. I'm going to pawn my speeder."   
Apophous' eyes broadened wider than physically possible.   
"Your speeder! Why? Are you kidding?" Apophous was given a  
blank stare.   
"Of course I'm kidding!" Said Zealotos.  
"I'm just going to stock up on food, you know, maybe play a  
couple games of cards," Now Zealotos was given a blank stare.   
"What?"  
Silence.   
"Fine, no gambling."   
Now satisfied, Apophous grabbed a hold of Zealotos' belt, and  
hung on.....tightly.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Zealotos sauntered through the desolate streets of Ashytakkah  
as Apophous strolled a few feet behind, observing the mansion  
style strutures and unusual alien specis of peculuir languages  
standing around them. The buildings were hundreds of years old, unlike the community,  
who migrated to the town merely two decades ago.   
A heavy unwelcome feeling seemed to  
pollute the air. The friends were given boorish looks, sneers and stares of ridicule by the  
citizens of the town, who cleary didn't like outsiders.  
Zealotos, obviously offended, made harassing faces at anyone  
who gave him an unwanted look. He reached a  
bend in the road, and turned it only to be standing eye level with  
an enormous gray stomach. He frettingy shifted his gaze upward,  
again, an unlovely sight. There, with a look of pure rapture, stood  
Pletom Tikkel, an alien trader that often dwelled in the small bar  
of the town. Zealotos knew why this perticular alien looked so  
pleased to run in to him, and he wished emmensly that he was  
wrong.  
"Umm....hi." Came the frail greeting in a tone of question from  
Zealotos' shivering lips. He even managed to weakly raise his  
hand for a quick wave of his fingers. The alien was clearly  
restraining himself from laughter, a wide smile beginning to  
appear.   
"[I think you owe me some money, boy.]" He said in Huttese.  
Pletom's grubby hand wrapped tightly around Zealotos' neck and  
lifted him up to the alien's rough face.   
"[You know, I don't like people who cheat. You would never  
cheat me, would you?]" He said quietly, still speaking Huttese, his  
ruthless grin becoming wider. Zealotos shook his head nervously.  
"N..n..no....no sir." He stammered. He knew that this alien brute  
was quite aware that he had cheated him out of money. Pletom's  
smile dissapeared. He yanked Zealotos so close that the two's  
eyes were merely two inches apart.   
"I don't like liars, either." He hissed, now speaking basic.  
Zealotos prepared himself for the extreme pain to come as  
Pletom's hand progressd backwards for the powerful blow. All  
this time, Apophous had stood helplessly silent to the side, but his  
friend was about to be beat perfusley by a giant barbarian, and  
could no longer restrain himself.   
"Stop!" He yelled. Pletom turned to look at the boy puzzledly.   
"Leave..." Apophous cut himself off as the alien loosened his  
grip on Zealotos, who quickly dropped to take Apophous' side.   
"Him....alone." Apophous had force the words out of his mouth,  
for Pletom now stood directly in front of him, the creature's  
towering structure seeming much larger and brutal up close.  
Pletom could do nothing but laugh, making him seem all the more  
cruel and heartless.   
"[So, you want to help out your little friend, your buddy? You do  
know that he's a theif, right?]" Apophous now found himself  
dangling above ground powerlessly, gasping for air. Pletom  
cackled mockingly and shook his head.   
"[But, if you want to help out a common criminal, you could  
alway, well, take the rap for them.]"   
"Apophous! Your saber! Your saber!" Yelled Zealotos excitedly,  
waving his his arms back and forth, harnessing himself from  
jumping up and down. Apophous was able to stretch his hand out  
far enough to get two fingers underneath his lightsaber, which was  
hanging loosely by a twine attached to his belt. He thrust his hand  
upward which sent his weapon airborn in Zealotos' direction in  
hopes that he would catch it. Zea had to make a run a few yards  
backwards and then leap off the ground to snatched it out of mid  
air. Once he had a good grip of weapon, he ignited it and darted  
behind Pletom. The alien's dark eyes widened and he sprung into  
the air as the hot blade singed his breech. Apophous leaped from  
the clutches of the ruffian and began clawing at the ground, trying  
desperetly to escape. He continued his mad clawing until he  
realized that he wasn't going anywhere. He slowly turned to look  
behind him, dreading what he was about to see. Pletom Tikkel's  
huge foot was pressing firmly down on his cloak, preventing him  
from moving. Apophous watched in terror as the giant foot lifted  
off of his cloak and above his head. The last thing that he  
remembered before he was knocked unconsious was the bottom  
of a dark boot about to smash down on his face.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Strange Technique

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter II  
  
  
  
Chicharious paced back and forth through the dim lit hallway  
that connected the many rooms of the majestic fortress that he  
and his apprentice dwelled in. Apophous stood along the wall,  
watching his master with uneasiness. The look in Chicharious'  
eyes told Apophous that his mentor was rather enjoying  
reasoning with himself to decide a fitting punishment for the little  
escapade that Zealotos took him on the day before. He was also  
enjoying keeping Apophous in suspense for the conclusive  
decision, which Apophous would preferably wish not to hear at  
all. Chicharious was sure to give Apophous no facial signals or  
gestures what so ever of which may give Apophous a conception  
of what his punishment may be.   
"I hope you greatly enjoyed the recreation that you and Zealotos  
had yesterday," Said Chicharious as he approached his student.  
"Because it's the last time you'll be seeing him for a very, very,  
long time. It was his senseless gaffe to swindle the burly savage in  
the first place. Now, get your bowcaster and go track some  
runyips for our meal." Apophous watched in astonishment as his  
master turned to walk away. How could this be? Chicharious  
hadn't even punished him. He was about to stop his master to  
question this odd arrangement, but dared not after everything that  
he had already done. There was nothing to do but silently obey.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------   
  
Apophous trudged through the foliage on the vegetation  
overrun forest floor of the fourth moon of Yavin, pursuing the  
intelligent runyip, a large, stubborn creature that feeds on the  
vitamin rich mulch of Yavin's jungles. It was quite a task to locate  
this peticular species, for they were surprisingly exemplary at  
hiding in difficult  
to reach places. Although they were not the most elegant or  
exquisite meal, their meat was edible and actually quite nutritive.   
Along with runyips, other safely edible species that inhabited the  
planet included woolamanders, slothlike creatures that occupy the  
Massassi trees, crystal snakes, huge, extremely long serpents that,  
when in certain light, seem to glisten in multiple colors, and  
armored eels, large, snake-like fish that live in the many rivers that  
cut through the thick, steamy woods. Apophous would  
occasionally stop to check under blue leaf shrubs and feather  
furns, ideal hiding places for the runyip, along with hollow fallen  
tree trunks and abandoned snake holes. Apophous naturally  
enjoyed hunting, for it reminded him of the times he had on his  
home planet, Antooanna, the place where he grew up. But  
Apophous' favorite part of hunting was the fact that it was  
challenging. Apophous, like his master, greatly enjoyed challenges.  
And hunting here, opposed to Antooanna, was much more  
difficult, hense, it was much more fun. The many obstacles  
seemed to kill the sport of hunting for some, but for the two Sith, it  
made it all the more enjoyable. But what would be a part of  
everyday life for some, Chicharious regarded as Sith training. A  
semi-thick fog lingered above the ground that day, and smooth,  
gray clouds painted the sky. The air was muggy and humid, and a  
light drizzle came off and on. Apophous was constantly forced to  
wipe the sweat that came with the dreary weather off of his brow.  
The soggy weather of Yavin IV's rain forest like jungles were  
much different than Antooanna's dry, warm forests scorching hot,  
continually waterless deserts. Plus, Yavin had hundreds of wide  
running rivers and streams flowing through and under the  
mountain range's valleys while Antooanna, on the other hand,  
consisted of vast oceans, gently rolling plains and scarce wooded  
areas with miniature waterfalls and cascades. Apophous stood  
atop a huge, lofty crag resting on the side of a knoll, scanning the  
underbrush for movement. He held in his right hand the same  
bowcaster he was given by his father as a birthday gift four years  
ago. He had made minor modifications, and it was now a battle  
efficient weapon. He stood perfectly still. The runyip was  
near-sighted and color blind, and could not define still objects as  
other creatures, even if they were standing overtop him. The  
slightest shear of wind caused Apophous to quickly glance at  
anything it affected, wether that be a tall patch of grass or a  
swaying flower. His eyesight was incredibly sharp, and he could  
run at almost blinding speeds when necessary. But his master  
was incomparably stronger, not only physically, but mentally.  
Indeed, Apophous was tuned in with the force, but on a very weak  
level. It would be questioned why Chicharious did not begin the  
training of his apprentice with techniques of how to master the  
force, but he knew that Apophous had been distorted, and  
perhaps even mentally damaged, by the loss of his parents.  
Secondly, Chicharious knew that Apophous was very adventure  
hungry and head strong, and that starting him out with such  
discipline would be next to impossible and would most likely turn  
Apophous against him. So, instead of levitating rocks or  
meditating, Apophous was out hunting game under his master's  
command. Apophous was also very independent, and considered  
his point of view the factual truth. Chicharious was aware of this,  
and was sure to give Apophous his elbow room when it came to  
opinions, but he never let his apprentice tell him that he was  
wrong. Even Apophous, although he endorsed this unusual  
training method, still did not understand it. He had come to  
believing that Sith training should be severely harsh, but found it  
to truly be relatively simple compared to what he thought. He  
suddenly cringed as a sharp pain shot through his left thigh. He  
yanked the bottom of his tunic and saw a large insect clinging to  
his black trousers. He immediately recognised it as a tree tic. It  
was violet with black stripes lining it's back, and it's legs were a  
frosty blue. He slowly extended his gloved right hand towards it.  
He had to get it off fast, because if it were to bite again, the  
already poisoned area would be infected so bad that his entire left  
leg would have to be amputated. His index finger and thumb  
clamped it's sides carefully. If he were to make any sudden  
movements, his finger would be surely bit, and such a strong  
poison in such a small and weak area would leave Apophous no  
doubt missing his finger, no amputation necessary. Not only that,  
but the poison, almost as strong as a venom, would paralyze his  
hand for months. He lifted it slowly and set it, very cautiously on  
the wet soil. He sighed from relief as he backed slowly down the  
hill, eyeing the insect the entire time, and nearly tripped when he  
collided with a protruding rock. He made his way through the  
woods, and although he was startled and in pain, he still kept a  
close eye out for his quarry. He was rather frustrated by now, he  
had been away from his home for two standard hours, and had  
found no vestige whatsoever of the annoying creature. He came  
across a small spring where he refilled his canteen, treated his  
wound, and continued on. It was about midday, and Apophous  
was becoming very hungry. At his age, eating was almost  
necessary every few hours, and Apophous had not had a meal  
that morning. Not only was he in need of food, but the harsh heat  
and dampness was making him sweat all of the fluid from his  
system, causing dehydration. He would become ill if he did not  
re-stock on water roughly every few minutes. But that would  
hopefully not be a problem, considering the hundreds of water  
scources in the area. He was forced to limp a few minutes after  
the bite, and his leg bagan swelling. But he dare not return to his  
master without food.   
  
  
EXTENSION IN PROGRESS 


End file.
